


Tryst With a Stranger

by Lindstrom



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Arranged Marriage, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Regency Romance, Smitten Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindstrom/pseuds/Lindstrom
Summary: Charles will do his duty and marry a man he’s never met to save the family estate, but he has one night of freedom left. His body is his own, and he’s not saving himself for his dull and ruthless fiancé. His mother is throwing a ball and Charles develops a plan: he’ll find a stranger at the ball and seduce him . . .Written to matchthis gifset.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 47
Kudos: 467





	Tryst With a Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Are you as stressed out at this coronavirus stuff as I am? Writing is a stress-reliever for me. I've had this gifset bookmarked to write about someday, and someday has arrived. We could all use some fluff and a happy ending! Be sure to check out the gifset; it's gorgeous.

Two letters came in the post for Charles. He tucked the letter from Moira into his pocket to cheer him back up after he read the letter from his fiancé. Charles picked up the letter opener with the carved handle of Jarrah wood that Hank brought back for him from Australia last year and slit open the thick creamy envelope postmarked from Germany. He unfolded the single page and sighed.

_My esteemed Mr. Xavier,_

_I trust all is well with you and your mother and sister._

Everyone of his fiancé’s dull and unwanted letters started out with that sentence. Every. Single. One. And yes, thank you for asking, his mother wasn’t drinking nearly as much, which is why she had time to meddle in Charles’ affairs to the point that he was now engaged to Europe’s most boring correspondent. He was happy his mother was recovering from the shock of Kurt deserting her after pilfering most of their fortune, but he’d rather hoped her attention would focus on him as a human being rather than on using him as marriage bait for someone who could replenish their accounts. 

Raven was safe from mother’s predatory matchmaking. She was adopted, and much too wild to be forced into an unwanted marriage even if she had any legal right to inherit what little was left of the Xavier estate.

_My mother sends her warmest regards and her wishes to meet you soon._

Mr. Lehnsherr frequently dropped remarks into his letters about his mother. Charles wondered if Mrs. Edie Lehnsherr really did send her regards, or if Mr. Lehnsherr just said that because it was polite. In one of his few replies, Charles had said that Sharon Marko sent her regards, but what his mother had really said was “Ask for as much of a personal allowance as you think he’ll give. You can put up with a lot from a husband if he has loose purse strings.” 

_I hope to visit England in the near future._

Charles’ heart leaped into his throat. Please, no! The betrothal had been announced only three months ago - he should have nearly a year before they began to set dates and close the cage around him. He needed at least another year at university!

_My agent has mapped a possible location for the new steel factory, and I would like to see it for myself before we consult the geologist and engage an architect._

The location for the new steel factory was on the Xavier estate. The Xavier estate made up about half the county, and Charles devoutly hoped that the steel factory would be miles away from the house. The land for that blasted steel factory was Charles’ dowry. The land remained titled in the Xavier family, and Mr. Lehnsherr’s dowry was the fair market value of the land in cash. The marriage was a business transaction, and all of them knew it.

He scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand and clamped down on the parade of ‘what if’ horribles that had taken up permanent residence in his mind the day he’d dipped a quill in the ink and signed the binding betrothal agreement. The first letter from Mr. Lehnsherr had arrived the next week, stiff and proper and horrid. Mr. Lehnsherr was likely as unattractive and smelly as his beloved steel factory, Charles thought crossly.

_I beg you will make the time for a visit with me, as I would very much like to meet you._

Well, wasn’t that a lovely surprise! Now that there was a location for a factory, his fiancé could ask to meet him. Charles didn’t know if it was worse to dread an unknown Mr. Lehnsherr, or find out what the reality would be. He knew Mr. Lehnsherr was eight years his senior, and had taken over the family business entirely upon the death of his father four years ago. No one thought a man in his mid-twenties could run such an enterprise, but Mr. Lehnsherr had proven them all wrong. That sort of drive and ambition signaled a ruthless personality. Combine that with the things people whispered behind their hands that Mr. Lehnsherr had done to a competitor who tried to smear his reputation, and well . . . truth be told, he was afraid of Mr. Lehnsherr. Just a little. As much as you could be afraid of someone who bored you to tears.

_I will intrude no further upon your time._

Charles’s fingers crinkled the thick expensive paper at Mr. Lehnsherr’s meaningless pleasantries. No, you’ll just take the rest of my life! I could have been a scientist, if not for you! A professor at Oxford! I could have published important studies and done something real with my life, if not for you! But thank you so much for not wasting any more of my time with your dreadfully dull correspondence! 

_Your obedient servant,_

_Mr. Erik M. Lehnsherr_

Charles crumpled the letter and wadded the remains back into the envelope that he shoved into a drawer full of Mr. Lehnsherr’s previous letters which were in various states of disrepair. Charles had written back only twice, at his mother’s insistence. Despite Charles’ lack of replies, Mr. Lehnsherr’s letters arrived weekly, each as dull and inexorable as the last.

After a few minutes in which Charles did not cry, Charles pulled the other letter out of his pocket to cheer himself up. This letter was postmarked from Liverpool, where Hank, Moira and the rest of Charles’ university class were hearing lectures about the natural sciences and observation techniques. In two weeks, Professor Howlett would set sail with his two star pupils, Hank and Moira, for three months of visiting various Caribbean islands in search of new species. Professor Howlett had told Charles outright that it was a shame he couldn’t come, because he had so much promise as a scientist.

If only he had two more years to study! In just two years, he could pass his certifications. Next year, Professor Howlett had promised him a co-authorship on a study of evolutionary variation in trees that grew on the lee or windward side of the hills. He was to work on his observation and sketches while the other top students sailed the world while he stayed home to meet his fiancé.

Moira’s letter overflowed with her passion for her studies and details on the techniques they were learning. It was kind of her to include the class notes for him. Charles met Moira at his first class, and they had instantly become friends. The friendship with Hank had taken longer to develop, but was just as deep now. He missed them fiercely, even more than he missed the chance to travel and study.

She included several messages from Hank to Charles. Hank understood the pressures on Charles in a way that Moira could not. Moira had kicked over all social conventions to become one of the few female science students at university; she did not understand Charles’ meek submission to his duty to marry well. Hank knew him better. “People evolve into certain niches too, not just animals. We’re all bred for a purpose. Charles can’t leave his estate, Moira, it would pull up all his roots. It’s where he belongs, don’t you see?” Hank explained one evening.

After that explanation, Moira accepted what Charles was doing, or at least she didn’t argue with him and threaten to kidnap him as often. Charles was disappointed about the timing of his marriage, but he’d always known his future was locked together with his family and the estate. 

He’d just wanted a few more years of freedom. Kurt’s theft had taken those years from him. Charles directed his anger at the situation at Kurt rather than at his mother. She had done what she could, and he wouldn’t be so ungrateful as to forget that. Charles’ first suitor was in his fifties; the second suitor drank like a fish. Sharon would not hear of them further. Mr. Lehnsherr was not so much older than he was, and a sober hardworking sort. Really, things could have been much worse, and he gave his mother credit for what she had been able to do.

Charles pulled his feet up onto the chair, put his head down on his knees and tried to comfort himself by pointing out how much worse his situation could have been. Judging by the tears, he didn’t do a very good job.

* * *

Later that evening, Charles and Raven were sketching in Charles’ study. The enormous teakwood desk was Charles’ pride and joy, though it was too large to fit comfortably in the room. His father, Brian Xavier, had shipped the wood back from Burma and hired a master carpenter to create the desk. When he’d died, his mother yielded to Charles’ pleading and agreed to move the desk into Charles’ suite, though Charles was only twelve at the time. The desk was one of the few valuable pieces of furniture that Kurt Marko hadn’t sold.

“It didn’t look like that,” Charles objected when Raven showed him her sketch.

“It looks better than your drawing,” Raven objected back.

“The purpose of natural science sketching isn’t to create a work of art, Raven, it’s to accurately sketch what the eye saw,” Charles said patiently. He’d explained this a hundred times, but Raven insisted on turning all his sketches into art, even the dung beetles.

Raven sighed and rubbed out her line. “Have you heard from that rich suitor of yours?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?” Charles asked. Everyone would know the weekly letter from his fiancé had arrived, but no one ever inquired about its contents.

“Just curious. I keep expecting you to say you’ve taken a lover. You haven’t, have you? Because now that Hank and Moira are gone, you don’t even have any friends,” Raven said bluntly.

“Why would you ask such a thing?” Charles hissed, keeping his voice down. No, he hadn’t taken a lover. He heard gossip at university about who was sleeping with whom, but he was too engrossed in his studies to go prowling for a lover. He’d flirted with Tony, but everyone flirted with Tony. The kisses with Steve never turned into anything further. Honestly, it just hadn’t seemed very important compared to science. He’d thought about his lack of experience a lot more since he’d gotten betrothed a few months ago, but it seemed to be one of those things that he’d procrastinated too long.

“I visited Angel last time I was in town,” Raven said, at least keeping her voice low now. “She got thrown into an arranged marriage too. Remember I told you? I told her about you getting betrothed to a rich European you’ve never even met. She said to take a lover before you’re married. That way your first time will be with someone you choose.”

Charles’ cheeks burned to think that people were discussing his arranged marriage in such terms. “It’s none of her business!”

“Just some advice, Charles. Angel’s in your same situation,” Raven said, as if she wasn’t being completely outrageous.

Charles pressed his lips together and worked furiously on the shading of the insect’s wing. He expected he would like sex as well as the next person. But now Angel’s words made him wonder. Would Mr. Lehnsherr be just as brusque and businesslike in bed as he was in his letters? What if the sex was as dull as his letters and Charles never knew how good it could be? How did one find a last-minute lover anyway?

“Beg pardon, sir, ma’am.”

Charles looked up. Alfred, their tall and awkward footman, stood in the doorway. “Her ladyship requests your presence in the library at your earliest convenience.”

Charles understood a summons when he heard one. He sighed and stood up. “Care to join me?”

Raven gave an unladylike snort. “Not bloody likely.”

That right there was why Raven didn’t have to worry about their mother trying to marry her off. Raven snorted and swore and did anything she pleased. She loudly announced she never had any intention of marrying, and their mother had given up on contradicting her.

Charles shrugged his jacket back on and made his way to the library. He found it ironic that his mother, who rarely read, preferred the library for her evening engagements. The windows let in the best light, and the couches were cozy. With his mother nearly always in residence, Charles had learned to avoid the library in the evening.

“What have you been doing all day, Charles?” his mother asked after he’d planted a dutiful kiss on her cheek and asked after her health. She looked very well, with her blonde hair in an updo. She wore both necklace and earrings, fully made up though they expected no visitors tonight. Sharon Xavier had been one of society’s great beauties before her marriage. Now that she was through the despair of what Kurt Marko had done to her family and estate, some of that beauty was returning to her. Charles was glad to see it, despite what her recovery was costing him.

“Sketching and studying,” Charles said. He decided to try out some boldness. “You know how much my studies mean to me. I intend to sit exams at university as soon as I can. Professor Howlett says I show real promise as a scientist.”

“Books! Always books with you!” She smiled indulgently.

“The world around us is such a fascinating place and I intend to find out all I can about it!” Charles declared.

“Well, learn a bit about steel-making too, that will be more useful for you soon enough. Mr. Lehnsherr is traveling here for a visit. He’s asked to meet you,” Sharon said. 

Mr. Lehnsherr must have written to his mother as well; Charles hadn’t shared the news in his letter.

“It’s quite soon, don’t you think?”

Sharon accepted a wine glass from the footman’s tray. “You are already nineteen, Charles. You can’t spend all your life on books. You must marry.”

“But mother, I don’t . . .”

Sharon sipped her wine. “No buts. I’m going to throw a ball.”

“For Mr. Lehnsherr?”

“If he arrives in time, he may join us. Really, Charles, it’s been so long since we’ve hosted a ball!”

What his mother meant was that it had been so long since they could afford to host a ball. Whether Mr. Lehnsherr arrived in time or not, this ball was only possible because Mr. Lehnsherr had already made the first payment on his husband and land. Everyone who attended would know of his betrothal, and he was suddenly self-conscious that gossip like Angel’s would follow him through the evening.

“I shan’t attend,” Charles said quietly.

“Yes, you shall, Charles. Don’t be difficult.” Sharon sipped wine and regarded her son over the rim of the wineglass.

Charles studied the pattern of the carpet and considered whether he should argue with her, or agree and then develop a headache that night.

“Come now, Charles, I’m inviting all your friends. You’ve neglected the neighborhood sadly since you started at university. Of course you’ll come,” Sharon said peremptorily. In her mind, the discussion was over.

An idea presented itself for his consideration. He would find someone at the ball. He would meet one of his old friends, perhaps one of the Summers brothers or Armando. Or better yet, a total stranger. He’d tryst with a total stranger at the ball and snatch a night of freedom, a first time with a man he chose himself. A small, secret smile blossomed on his face. He wouldn’t care a bit for what people wanted to gossip about him that evening, but would be wild and wanton.

“Yes, I’ll come,” Charles agreed.

“You’re a good son, Charles, you always have been. Now, kiss me goodnight.” Sharon presented her cheek and Charles kissed it.

Sharon rang for her maid to meet her upstairs and left the room. Charles walked over to the fireplace and leaned his arm against the mantle, watching the flames flicker. He’d never tell Raven, because she’d gossip it to all her friends, but he would take Angel’s advice after all. Now he just needed to convince himself that he was bold enough to find and seduce a stranger at the ball.

* * *

A week later, Charles’ adventurous spirit had ebbed and flowed several times. He was certain he’d find a lover at the ball; he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him; he would boldly flirt with the first man to catch his eye; he would hide in a corner with a book and pray no one noticed him. The back and forth made him irritable. He got fussy about the cut of his new jacket and said the collar chafed him, though it hadn’t bothered him during the fittings. 

“I can make that alteration,” his valet said.

“Yes, thank you, I’ll wait,” Charles said. He welcomed the delay. The house was full of music and the happy babble of voices. He didn’t feel ready to join the group and pretend to be carefree. Mr. Lehnsherr’s weekly letter had not arrived, and Charles suspected it was because the man himself was en route. Mr. Lehnsherr wasn’t here tonight, and that’s all Charles cared about. After his tryst with a stranger, he would meet Mr. Lehnsherr and be the picture of decorum.

While he waited for his valet, Charles went to look over the second floor balcony at the scene below, where couples whirled across the polished parquet floor. He unbuttoned his collar and unwound his cravat to ease the sudden pressure in his throat. 

Were people still arriving? The dance was not crowded. He wanted immense crowds tonight; enough that there would be dozens of strangers for him to choose from. He ran down the steps to the back hallway. This had once been the main entryway, and it still had the grand arches and double stairway of an era when the Xaviers had enough money to think it wasn’t grand enough, and consigned it to the dark and quiet by building another entryway, even more grand, on the other side of the house.

The light from the carriage lanterns drifted into the dark hallway through the window. He watched the spectacle, the sheer curtains blowing in the slight summer breeze. This window didn’t overlook the main entry. Back here by the stables, the footmen and drivers who had chauffeured their employers to the ball waited until they were called for the journey home.

It was an entirely different world on the other side of the window. Those men and women waiting with the horses were worlds removed from his studies and worries. The glow of a cigarette made a bright speck against the soft glow of lanterns and laughter punctuated the conversation. He couldn’t make out the words, just the singsong cadence of people waiting for time to pass.

A different world. Charles planned to step out of his dutiful and well-behaved world tonight, and seize a few moments of life and freedom. Just for tonight. He really was going to do this, he decided. He would return to his dressing room and get his jacket so he could find his stranger, as soon as his galloping heart calmed down.

He heard footsteps behind him. 

“Excuse me.” The voice was unfamiliar.

Charles turned, cravat in his hand and no coat in sight. The man approaching him was no one that Charles knew. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, too old to be the dreaded fiancé. The look on his face jolted something low in Charles’ belly. He was tall, with a severely trimmed mustache and serious eyes that fastened on Charles and held him there. Charles felt that he had willed this stranger into existence, a gift from fate.

“May I have this dance, sir?” Not a British accent, and he didn’t smile at Charles. There was something of the Continent about his accent, but the vowels were as flat as an American’s. Even his voice was exotic and unreal. Better and better.

“You can,” Charles said. He couldn’t stop a smile of anticipation from curving his lips.

Without further words, the stranger set a firm arm around Charles’ waist. He felt the heat of the man’s skin through the thin cloth of his shirt. Charles stepped close and took the man’s hand in his own, setting the other hand on his back. The man’s eyes wandered over Charles’ face, spending a few extra seconds on his lips, before sliding down his neck and shoulders, the intensity of his gaze almost tangible. Charles swayed fractionally closer, deliberately turning his head to exhale lightly against his neck. The man made a low sound in his throat, and the fingers at Charles’ waist clutched a bit tighter.

His dance partner walked them through a few steps to the accompaniment of the music spilling out all over the house. Charles went up on his toes, and let their movements make it seem inevitable that his cheek would brush the stranger’s. Then he whispered an apology for the contact, breathy and close to his ear.

“I suppose I should have waited for an introduction before I asked you to dance.” The stranger’s voice was rougher than it had been when he’d asked Charles to dance, and Charles kept his head down to smirk at the man’s response to him. Yes, he was going to be wicked and seduce this man.

“No introductions,” Charles said, pitching his voice low and pulling back enough to catch the man’s gaze. “Give me a name to call you, but no introductions. Tonight is mine alone, and I don’t want any witnesses, not even you.”

“Then call me Max. And tell me why the most handsome man at the ball is hiding away in an unlit hallway without a formal jacket or a partner.” Max’s eyes went half-lidded and his cheek skimmed Charles’ hair. His hand pressed against Charles’ back until their torsos were touching and his mustache brushed Charles’ forehead.

“I didn’t want to dance tonight,” Charles said. Greatly daring, he licked Max’s earlobe. He was fairly sure he was being seductive and not ridiculous, but he hadn’t done this before. 

Any misgivings he might have had evaporated when Max quit trying to dance and turned their light touch into a full embrace. “What is it that you want to do without any witnesses?”

Charles molded his body against Max’s and rubbed his hips against him, sliding his thighs around Max’s leg. He ran his hands up Max’s shirt, inside his jacket and looked at him sideways, chin tipped. 

Max’s arm tightened around Charles’ waist, pressing him even closer than he already was, his eyes boring into Charles. Charles kept his expression cocky and challenging, as if he seduced total strangers in back hallways all the time. He couldn’t keep it up, though. If Max kept looking at him like that, Charles was going to blurt out everything. So he grabbed Max’s head and pulled him in for a kiss.

Charles was pretty sure he did it wrong; he didn’t think their teeth were supposed to clash like that, and he exhaled at the wrong time. Max wound a hand into the hair at the nape of Charles’ neck and pulled him away. “What do you want?” he growled.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Charles said boldly. “I want sex. With you. Now. Here.” He clenched his jaw, then thought that made him look too nervous, so he forced himself to relax. 

Max let go of him. “Take your shirt off.”

Breathless with excitement that his seduction was working, Charles’ nimble fingers flew down his shirt, undoing buttons and yanking the shirt out of his waistband. Max watched him. He hadn’t cracked a smile this entire time, Charles noted. He pulled the shirt off his shoulders and dropped it on the floor. He stood there and resisted the temptation to hunch his shoulders while Max raked his eyes down his torso, down to the bulge in his pants. 

“You like it rough?”

“Yes, of course. Rough. I like it rough. As rough as you do. That’s what I like,” Charles insisted.

Max shoved him against the wall and then came at him with a kiss. Charles’ mouth was no longer his own. Max claimed it, claimed him, in a kiss that burned all the way down to his crotch and wrung an involuntary ‘oh’ out of Charles that he gasped into Max’s mouth. He flung his hands over his head, trying to keep up with Max’s kiss. The kiss was more passionate than rough, after the initial shove, inviting Charles’ tongue into his own mouth and giving Charles enough space to kiss him back.

Charles brought his arms down around Max’s shoulders and wished Max weren’t still wearing a jacket. Did he dare tell Max to take off his own shirt? Why would he want to let go of this kiss for any reason at all? Charles curled his fingers into Max’s hair and gave himself up to being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Tonight belonged only to him and this stranger.

He couldn’t keep himself from rutting against Max’s leg again. His cock was desperate for friction. Charles wanted Max to touch him more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. So it left Charles gasping when Max stepped back.

“What?” Charles said, before noticing Max was shucking his jacket and undoing buttons.

“Let me get those,” Charles said, knocking Max’s hands away from his shirt and undoing the buttons himself.

Max let him do it, standing still while Charles untucked his shirt and then pushed it off his shoulders, using the motion to bring himself in flush against Max’s bare and beautiful chest and hold him. Max’s arms closed around Charles’ back.

“I want you in a bed,” he whispered in Charles’ ear.

“I don’t want to wait that long,” Charles whispered back, in his most seductive voice.

“You deserve a bed for your first time.”

Charles jerked back, stung. He’d done something clumsy, something naive, or Max wouldn’t have guessed this was his first time. He didn’t know what it was, but it made his cheeks redden and he turned around. 

Max’s arms criss-crossed over his chest and pulled him back flush against him. Charles felt the press of Max’s stiff cock through their trousers. “I’ll treat you right. I’m not taking you in a hallway.”

“How did you even know this is my first time?” Charles asked.

Max’s voice had a note of surprise in it and his hand stroked up and down Charles’ arm. “Everyone has a first time. There’s no shame in it. Let me make tonight special for you. Not just rutting in a hallway, even one as grand as this one. A house this size has a hundred bedrooms; we won’t be the only ones finding a spare room tonight.”

Charles let Max hold him, curling his hands around Max’s arms. He’d thought a more sexually experienced man would be contemptuous of his virginity; it took a few minutes to adjust to Max’s matter-of-fact acceptance instead.

Max pressed a slow, hot kiss into the back of Charles’ neck and Charles felt his tongue taste him. “What’s your first-time fantasy, nameless man of mine?” His hand slid past Charles’ waistband and massaged his crotch.

“I will come right here in this hallway if you keep that up!” Charles said with a gasp.

Max moved his hand away with a low laugh. He let go of Charles to pick up their shirts and his jacket off the floor. “Let’s find a bedroom.”

Charles led the way up the stairs, knowing that Max was staring at his ass with every step. “Enjoying the view?” he asked lightly.

“Very much.”

“You're nice to look at yourself,” Charles said shyly, nodding at Max’s bare chest as he caught up to him at the top of his stairs. 

Max ran a thumb along Charles’ jawline, smooth where he’d shaved in preparation for tonight’s ball. Charles reached up to brush a finger across Max’s mustache. It must have tickled because, for the first time that night, Max smiled, a hesitant quirk of the lips that looked like it didn’t happen very often. Charles’ own smile burst out in response. The wonder that came over Max’s face sent the blood rushing to Charles’ cheeks again. No one had ever looked at him like that.

“You’re breathtaking, you know that?” Max said. 

“No, I’m just . . . myself . . . you know . . . far too bookish,” Charles said with a shrug. “You’re the breathtaking one.”

“I’d argue with you about that, but I’ve got better uses for that mouth of yours than talking,” Max said in that gravelly voice. 

“In here, then,” Charles said, turning the door handle on one of the dozen spare rooms in the house. Once they were inside, Charles twisted the latch to lock the door. His eyes went to the bed that dominated the room, and his insides gave a nervous flutter. They shouldn’t have stopped kissing long enough to talk, because now he had time to get nervous.

“You can stop this at any time,” Max said, fingertips on Charles’ jawline again.

“I don’t want to stop.” Charles set his hands on Max’s ribs and rubbed a nipple with his thumb.

“You can tell me why someone like you wants a stranger, instead of giving yourself to someone who will worship the ground you walk on every day for the rest of your life.”

He did _not_ want to think about real life tonight - not his reasons for seducing a stranger or what might happen tomorrow or who he might have to share a bed with for the rest of his life. Max’s question cut too close to reality.

“My reasons are my own,” Charles said sharply.

“As you wish,” Max said. 

Then he was kissing Charles again, though not as passionately as he had in the hallway. These kisses were building gradually. Max had his hands on either side of Charles’ waist, walking him backward toward the bed. Charles felt the brush of the coverlet against his leg. He was doing this; he was going to bed with a total stranger and he was so hot and hard right now that it almost hurt. Max stopped him next to the bed, his hands unbuckling Charles’ belt and guiding his trousers to fall off his hips. Without ever releasing his mouth, Max laid Charles down on the bed, the kisses dragging moans out of Charles with every movement. Max pressed down over the top of him. Charles linked a leg over Max’s thigh and thrust upwards, his cock aching for contact.

“You want it fast?” Max said. 

“I’m going to come anyway,” Charles said helplessly. “Touch me now!”

Max’s fingers dug into Charles’ belly, low near his crotch. 

“Max!” Charles cried out.

“Shout my name again,” Max ordered him, and then pulled his underclothes down and took Charles’ cock in his mouth.

Charles let loose with a ragged cry that he couldn’t have held back even if he wanted to. The wet heat of Max’s mouth took him in and yanked him apart. Charles’ back arched, even with Max pinning his hips to the mattress, and he came shouting Max’s name. He realized he was pulling Max’s hair and he untangled his fingers, eyes clenched tightly shut.

“Perfect, you’re perfect,” Max crooned at him, thumbs stroking Charles’ hips. 

“You. I need to,” Charles said, running a hand down Max’s side.

“Shh, nothing yet. We’ve all night. Enjoy this. Just enjoy it,” Max whispered to him. He pressed his body against Charles, keeping the warmth between them. Charles trembled in the afterglow and let his body relax into the pleasure he’d just had.

After a few minutes, Max said, “shift a bit. Let’s get into the sheets.” 

That’s when Charles noticed they were lying on the coverlet. He stood up and pulled the coverlet down and slipped into the sheets. Max stripped off his trousers and underclothes. Charles didn’t hide the fact that he was staring. Max’s cock was swollen with desire for him, and it sent a shiver of pleasure all through his body. Max wanted _him._ Max was coming to bed with _him._ The thrilling thought made Charles lick his lips.

“Do that again,” Max told him, getting in next to him.

Charles licked his lips and Max leaned in to kiss him, tangling their tongues together. The afterglow, the playful kiss and the anticipation of Max’s hard cock made him giggly.

“Funny, is it?” Max asked, skimming the back of his knuckles down Charles’ stomach and rubbing lightly.

“Oohh,” Charles said in a soft exhale, folding up over Max’s hands. “Touch me there again.”

Max massaged Charles’ belly, the heels of his hands stroking circles over the sensitive skin of his abdomen. Charles curled up, his whole body spent with his orgasm, but deliciously craving Max’s touch. 

“I could come just watching you,” Max whispered.

“Oh!” Charles said, straightening up. “What should I do for you?”

Max took Charles’ wrist, and licked a wet stripe down his hand and then set Charles’ hand to his cock. “Stroke me off.”

Charles obliged. Max lay on his back, one arm slung over Charles’ waist as he lay on his side next to him. Charles watched in wonder as he made this sexy stranger moan and gasp with desire. As Max got closer to climax, his arm tightened on Charles, crushing him into a two-armed embrace when he came, trapping hot come between their torsos. He didn’t let go for a long time.

“I wish tonight would never end,” Charles whispered at last, sprawled over Max’s chest.

“We’re not done yet,” Max said languidly. “I’m getting you off at least once more tonight.”

Charles shivered in anticipation.

Max smiled at him, trailing lazy fingers over Charles’ back. “Tell me why you wanted this tonight.”

“Tomorrow doesn’t matter,” Charles insisted, hoping to persuade himself.

“Tomorrow matters to me,” Max said.

Charles shivered again, but this time with a misgiving. He’d promised himself a magical night with no consequences, but what if Max made trouble? He’d thoughtlessly seduced a stranger without fully understanding that his stranger was a man with opinions and experiences of his own. “There’s only tonight, Max, only tonight. We can’t ever see each other again. You don’t know my name; I don’t know yours. This is only tonight!”

Max flipped Charles over onto his back and loomed over him with a puzzled look. “You expect me to just walk away from you? When you’re the most bewitching creature I’ve ever laid eyes on? I couldn’t leave you alone even if I wanted to. You don’t want that either. I won’t believe it if you say so.”

“Of course I don’t want that! I want nothing more than to see you again and again and again. But we can’t! We can’t! You have to promise me you won’t try to see me again!” Charles was realizing what a terrible misstep he’d just made. What if his ruthless, hardheaded fiancé took insult at Charles’ finding a lover on the very weekend they were supposed to meet?

“You tell me why. You tell me the truth.”

Charles looked up into Max’s set expression and surrendered. “I’m being forced into a marriage. For money. The whole thing is for money. I’ve never even met my fiancé. He’s supposed to come visit this week, and once he’s here, my life will never be entirely my own again. I wanted a night of my own. Just one night! That isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

“You’re betrothed?”

Charles turned on his side so he didn’t have to see Max’s face. Max tucked Charles in against him, back to front.

“My family has land; his family has money. Rather than sell the land my fiancé wants for some horrid steel factory, the land is my betrothal price,” Charles said. 

Max was silent for a long time. Charles wanted to ask Max to keep touching him at least, stroke his side and nuzzle his hair, but perhaps Max was regretting their interlude and didn’t want to touch him again.

“You don’t want to marry him, then?”

“Of course I want to marry him! It’s just that I don’t _want_ to marry him. Do you see the difference?”

“Forgive me for being obtuse, but no.”

“It’s evolution, Max. I’m a natural scientist, or I would be if I wasn’t going to be married and locked away giving house parties for the rest of my life,” Charles said bitterly. “I understand evolution. I’ve been bred for one purpose -- to carry on the family estate. This is my niche, as it were. I’ve always known I would have to marry to advantage. I must do this. It’s just that I can’t stop myself from wishing I could marry someone I love instead.”

“He might fall in love with you on sight. You’ll hold him in your thrall and he would do anything to win a smile from you,” Max said, his voice going soft as his hand stroked Charles’ hip. “Perhaps someday you would love him in return.”

“I am not a child to be told fairy tales!” Charles said, hoping Max would never stop touching him.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Ah, yes, I see,” Max said gravely. “Is there no hope that you could love him, then?”

“We’ve exchanged a few letters, and he was dull as dust - all about his steel factory and manufacturing! I couldn’t stand to write him back more than twice! He’s got all the money; Mother is already lecturing daily about my duty. Max, what I really want to do is stay at university and earn my degree in natural sciences. Darwin opened up a whole new field of study, and I’ll be shut out of it. I want to publish studies, Max! I want to read books and go to conferences! I want to spend my days with a sketchbook and animals, studying natural sciences and evolution. Maybe travel. I want to see the Galapagos finches for myself! Not just look at Darwin’s sketches.” Charles clutched at Max’s hand that lay over his chest.

“Perhaps he’ll want you to do those things as well,” Max suggested.

Charles rolled over with a scowl. “Why would he? He’s going to want someone who stays at home and never says boo to him. Why would he let me do anything at all?”

“To see you smile, I expect,” Max said, fingers on Charles’ face.

“You vastly overestimate the power of my smiles,” Charles said with a Ravenlike snort.

“I don’t think I do,” Max said, tracing the corner of Charles’ mouth until he gave in and offered a weak smile. “Tell me about your science studies.”

Charles didn’t need a second invitation. He regaled Max with an overview of _The Origin of Species,_ Professor Howlett’s class, the trip to the Caribbean that he couldn’t take and all his cherished ambitions for a professorship. Max did his best to keep up, asking for clarification and telling Charles to slow down once in a while. Charles was surprised to hear the clock strike 2:00 in the morning. They must have talked for hours.

“You have both intelligence and ambition,” Max finally pronounced. “Neither one of those things can be stifled for long.”

“My marriage will stifle everything! I don’t want to talk about the future anymore. Please let me have tonight with you. Make me forget everything,” Charles begged. “There’s nothing in the whole world but you.” 

“You intoxicating, bewitching little temptation,” Max said, and brought their mouths together again.

Charles whimpered into the kiss and grabbed at Max’s shoulders.

“Roll over,” Max ordered him.

Charles did.

Max slid his fingers into the crack of his ass and teased his hole. “May I touch you here?”

Breathless, Charles nodded, then realized Max probably couldn’t see him well in the moonlight. “Yes,” Charles said his voice as ragged as his breathing. 

To his surprise, Max flipped back the coverlet and put his mouth down there, licking and stroking him. Charles cried out in surprise and Max stopped.

“Don’t stop! Please don’t stop! You just surprised me is all.” The heat, the wet and the pressure of Max’s fingers and tongue coaxed feelings out of Charles that he didn’t even know he had. He cupped his cock, which was doing its best to stiffen up again.

Max straightened, flipped the coverlet back over the two of them, and pulled Charles’s back flush against his chest again. With his hand, he shifted them until Max’s half-hard cock was cradled in Charles’ ass.

“Are you going to fuck me?” Charles gasped out.

“I wish I could,” Max growled, “but I can’t get that hard again so soon.”

“I wish you could be the one to fuck me my first time,” Charles said.

“Make that wish on a star, and perhaps it will come true,” Max replied, and then rolled Charles over on top of him. He swept a hand up Charles’ inner thigh and began massaging where his thigh joined his crotch, then worked his hand over to fondle Charles’ balls and stroke his cock.

Charles was a bundle of feeling, between Max’s cock pressed into his ass and Max’s hand stroking his inner thighs and genitals. Max’s other arm held him close, hand splayed out over his ribs. Charles couldn’t hold still, and Max adapted to his rhythmic shifting with his own movements. Charles moved Max’s hand to exactly where he wanted to be touched and Max complied.

“Touch there,” Charles said after several minutes, brushing Max’s hand off him and trying to set it between their bodies.

Max shifted and got his fingers next to his cock and teased Charles’ hole. “Here?”

Charles let out a long moan.

“So eager,” Max whispered, “so good and tight. The night I fuck you is going to be the best night of your life.”

Charles couldn’t even protest that he could never see Max again because his whole body was trying to tie itself into a knot over Max’s fingers.

“Not tonight, my temptation. You don’t get everything you want,” Max said, mouth set right up to Charles’ ear. “Just a bit tonight.” 

He entered Charles’ with one finger, just up to the first knuckle and Charles gasped loudly. “More.”

“No.” Max removed his hand. 

Before Charles could protest, Max rolled him over and kissed hotly down his torso and took his cock in his mouth again. With one hand, he held Charles’ hip firmly to the bed, but the other hand he slipped up under Charles’ ass and fingered him again. Charles wriggled down as far as he could and cried out. He didn’t know what to do with his own hands, and ended up twisting them into the sheets to keep himself from pulling Max’s hair. Max sucked at him, thrusting his finger at the same time. It went on forever, and yet not long enough before Charles was coming again, nearly crying with the force of feeling that Max pulled from him.

Max unfolded himself and lay next to Charles, stroking him through the aftershocks of his orgasm while Charles clutched at him and cried. The only coherent thought in his head was that this whole night was a terrible mistake. He’d thought to give himself a good memory, but all he’d done was show himself what he could never have again.

“What about you? I have to do something,” Charles finally remembered to offer. 

“Just watching your response to me is as much gratification as I want,” Max said. 

Charles didn’t begrudge him the smugness in his voice. Max had certainly earned it.

“You are so good, so very very good,” Max whispered, his fingers sliding over all Charles’ intimate places. “I would duel with this fiancé of yours and take you for my own.”

Fear like ice doused the fire in his veins. “Max! No! You can’t! Promise that you’ll never try to find me! I won’t risk you! He’s ruthless, Max. That’s the one thing I know about him for sure. He’s ruthless and dangerous and I won’t be the reason you get hurt!”

“How noble of you.” There was a note of mockery in Max’s voice.

Charles shifted away from Max’s wandering hands. “Promise!”

“I can’t promise that,” Max said.

“I’m going to marry him,” Charles said doggedly. 

“Yes. Yes, you are going to marry him,” Max said, sounding as if he were giving Charles an order. “I expect you’ll be a good husband to him, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Charles said, uncertain at the change in Max’s tone.

“With that assurance, I’ll be off,” Max said.

Charles relaxed. It seemed Max wouldn’t cause trouble after all. He sat up and caught Max’s hand and kissed it with his most fetching smile. “Tonight will always be one of the best memories of my life.”

“Keep that up and you’ll never get rid of me.”

Charles dropped his hand and put his head down on his knees. “Go.”

“You really want me to leave, don’t you?”

“Yes, get out of here.” Charles fisted his hands in the blanket to keep from reaching for Max.

Max sat down on the bed next to him. “My departure has a price.”

“I’ll kiss you good-bye, but then you really do have to go.”

“I don’t want your kiss. Tell me what this awful fiancé of yours would have to do to win your heart.”

“There’s nothing!” Charles proclaimed to his knees.

“Come up with something, or I get back into bed with you,” Max said. He slid a bare leg around Charles, following with a hand. 

“Oh, very well,” Charles said in a panic. “He could produce a metal sculpture of an animal. Short of that, I’ll hate him on sight.”

Max extricated himself from where he was winding himself around Charles again. “And you really, truly never want to see me again?”

“You are not to come back here!” Charles ordered him.

In the moonlight, most of Max’s face was in shadow, but there was enough light for Charles to see Max’s self-satisfied smirk as he pulled his clothes back on. When he finished the final button and fastened his belt again, he fixed that intense gaze on Charles who had been staring at the delicious spectacle of Max getting dressed. “I will do whatever I damn well please, including coming back here for you.” He put just the tiniest emphasis on the word ‘here.’ Then he turned around and walked out without another word.

Astonished, Charles stared at the door Max had shut behind him. 

His innards tied themselves in knots. He’d given away his identity, and Max had caught his slip. Max knew where he lived.

Charles wrapped his arms around himself, caught between fear that Max would cause trouble and the desperate hope that he would come back. Then he threw a pillow at the closed door and shouted, “You could have kissed me good-bye at least!” 

* * *

Charles woke up around noon the next day in his own bed. He’d crept back after waiting for the clock to strike 4:00 in the morning because he knew his valet wouldn’t wait up that late for him. He refused to answer his valet’s subtle questions about where he had gone last night. If the servants didn’t already know, they’d figure it out soon enough when the maids found the spare bedroom. His head felt full of sand and his eyes were gritty. After a bath and a tray of food in his room, some semblance of normalcy returned. Enough so that he could consider last night in the bright light of reason.

Except the bright light of reason couldn’t make up its mind. The whole episode had been a mistake. He was too dutiful and well-behaved to carry on an affair when he was betrothed. As much as he’d enjoyed (what a weak word!) last night, it wasn’t something he would ever repeat. 

But what if Max could be discreet? His fiance would be busy with his steel factory, and out of town frequently. They could arrange meetings. Perhaps Max would slip him a note, pay a servant to deliver it outside of the post, find some way to contact him in secret. Telling Max he lived here might not be such a terrible misstep after all.

What would happen if Mr. Lehnsherr found out? He would likely care more about the harm to his reputation than anything else. He might have his own dalliances on the side, and the two of them could come to a civilized arrangement.

Or Mr. Lehnsherr could call out both of them, publicly humiliate Charles and ruin Max. Charles wouldn’t put it past him, the mercenary scum. Charles quite hated him.

He was tying his thoughts in knots. He’d best go find Raven and work on his sketches, then start a letter to Hank and Moira. 

Charles kept his thoughts where they belonged the rest of the afternoon. Raven was always nagging at him about something, so her accusations that his head was in the clouds today were just typical sisterly griping. He didn’t seem to be at all interested in natural sciences today, and couldn’t get more than a sentence written in an hour of trying to write to Moira. He thought he should go out, but by the time Mr. Branson brought the carriage around, he’d forgotten where he wanted to go. He ended up sending it back, and taking his sketchbook to the garden instead. He did a fairly good job at sketching a finch that held still long enough for him to capture the pattern on its wings.

Then, of its own accord, his pencil began sketching eyes. Serious, pale eyes over a patrician nose and a shadow of a mustache. The eyebrows practically drew themselves, but he had a hard time with the mouth. Thin and serious lips didn’t suggest enough of the sensuality that he knew they possessed. How to draw that mouth in a way that did it justice? Slightly parted lips, just a hint of a tongue. 

Glancing around to make sure he was alone, and then shielding his page with his arm anyway, Charles sketched that mouth pressed against another mouth, and then a sketch of that mouth sucking on something that he didn’t draw in detail. There, that captured the sensuality of it, the feel and memory of a hot demanding mouth on his -- 

Oh damn, he shouldn’t do this. Even the sketch was enough to make his crotch tingle and his breath quicken. Charles ripped the page out of his notebook but couldn’t bring himself to crumple it up. He folded it and thrust it into his jacket pocket. He’d finish the sketch tonight, take care of his own pleasure, and then burn it in the morning. That would excise Max from his memory.

“Your pardon, sir.”

Charles startled, glad the sketch was already safely hidden in his pocket. The page under his pencil showed only the finch on a branch.

“Your mother asks for you.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Charles said, as proper as anything. He stood, brushing himself off and making sure there was no hint of what he’d been thinking. All his body parts were behaving themselves, so Charles strode off towards the house to find his mother. She probably wanted to scold him for not attending the ball last night. 

No sooner had she seen him than his mother demanded, “Where were you yesterday?” and following that up with “I don’t care.”

That was not the scolding he’d expected. His mother set a hand on his arm and turned him around. “He’s already waiting for you. Go.”

“He what?” Charles asked stupidly. His mother could only be talking about one person. It was too soon! He needed a few days at least. He couldn’t go from Max to Mr. Lehnsherr in less than a day.

Sharon was already guiding him up the four steps to the drawing room, giving him instructions. “Don’t talk about science, say something polite about steel, and for goodness sake act like you’re happy to see him!”

Charles didn’t even have a chance to ask for five minutes to compose himself before Sharon was pushing him through the doorway where he immediately violated her orders. He was _not_ happy to see the man in the drawing room, and he couldn’t pretend otherwise. Max had found him. His cock twitched in excitement while the rest of him shouted mental warnings about how badly things could go if Max crossed paths with Erik Lehnsherr.

Max was holding an odd-shaped package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. He hadn’t smiled when they met last night, and he didn’t smile this time either. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my dear fiancé.” 

The cheek of the man to bluff his way in here so brazenly! 

His mother elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “For goodness sake, Charles! Smile at him!” she whispered.

“Mother, could you give us the room?” Charles asked.

Sharon looked between them and then saw herself out.

“What are you doing here?” Charles hissed at him as soon as the door shut behind his mother. 

Max didn’t answer but proffered the lumpy brown package. 

“Max, what are you doing here?” Charles repeated, even as his fingers untied the twine and the brown paper fell off to reveal a . . . well . . . a scratched metal cylinder with the top and bottom pinched in, a couple of washers welded to the front that looked vaguely like eyes and a protruding triangle centered beneath them. The whole thing balanced on twisted metal strands with three toes. If you squinted at it, and defined the term generously, it bore some resemblance to an owl. “Is that a beak?” Charles asked. 

“Yes,” Max said. “I’ve got a better idea for feathers for the wings. I’m afraid the feathers are just etched on right now, but I’m sure I can layer some thin triangles for a better effect. I hadn’t really thought about using metal for animal sculptures before you mentioned it last night.”

Charles turned to stare at Max, who was watching him intently, searching for something in Charles’ expression. The pieces connected in his brain and made his insides wobbly.

“What’s your real name?” Charles asked, and hated the quaver in his voice.

“Erik Maximoff Lehnsherr, at your service, my dear Charles.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and displayed the letters Charles had sent him. ‘Erik M. Lehnsherr’ was written in Charles’ neat hand. He smiled a smug and gloating little smile at Charles’ reaction.

“Oh.” Charles had to sit down suddenly. Not even Raven had ever done anything as outrageous as seduce her own fiancé. Erik Lehnsherr knew that his fiancé was on the prowl last night; would he be angry? Wait, shouldn’t Charles be angry that Erik Lehnsherr was willing to sleep with a stranger when he was on his way to meet his fiancé?

Which one of them ought to feel the most betrayed right now?

“I thought you were only 27!” Charles blurted out.

Erik gave him a dry look. “I am 27, Charles. Your opinion of me has quite punctured my vanity. Dull, frightening and aged beyond my years. I must say, my dear fiancé, that while I appreciate your honesty, you do need to work on your tact.”

“Oh,” Charles stammered. “I beg your pardon. Did you know last night? Who I was?”

“Not until you told me about your betrothal and the steel factory.”

“You didn’t say anything,” Charles accused him, remembering the way Max had touched him after their long talk about science.

“I rather worried you would throw me out if I told you who I was,” Max said carelessly. He turned a lust-filled gaze on Charles. “I had no intention of leaving until I’d had my way with you.”

Charles’ ill-behaved cock gave a twitch at Max’s interest, and Charles shoved his hands in his pocket and hunched his chest, then realized Max would know exactly what he was trying to hide.

“Mm-hmm,” Max hummed smugly.

“Max!” Charles scolded him.

“Say my name,” Max said, stepping far too close to him.

“Erik,” Charles said, studying the bookshelves on the opposite wall.

“Look at me and say my name.”

Max’s eyes were hot and possessive and raked up every sensation from last night. Charles had to try twice before he managed the word, “Erik.” 

“Very good,” Erik replied. He lifted his hands and skimmed Charles’ arms without touching him. “You know, after last night, I’ve given serious thought to keeping you locked in a room for my own carnal enjoyment.”

“I’d only tolerate that for the honeymoon! And you damn well better be in the room with me!” Charles flung at him, flustered at his body’s reaction while his mind was still shouting out warnings.

“Deal,” Erik said, and then closed the gap between them with a hot and demanding kiss.

Charles swayed into the kiss, wrapping his hands around the back of Erik’s head and yielding to Erik's sensuous exploration of his mouth and body. When Charles let go, Erik drew back as well. He walked to a couch and seated himself. With a pointed glance at the cushion next to him, he wordlessly invited Charles to join him. Charles took the seat, hands on his knees and not letting his back touch the couch.

“Will you always be so stiff unless I’ve got you naked?” Erik asked, amusement in his voice.

“Don’t tease me. I don’t like it.”

Erik dropped the hand that had been drifting towards Charles’ neck. “You’ve accused me of being both dull and ruthless last night, and then hinted that I might violently attack your lover. Yet you risked all of that to seduce a stranger. It’s left me wondering what sort of man I’ve agreed to marry.”

“And you invited a stranger to dance when you should have been seeking out your fiancé,” Charles countered.

“And to think a mutual acquaintance described you as good-natured and biddable,” Erik replied.

“Who said that?” Charles asked.

“Someone who doesn’t know you very well, obviously.”

“If you want to be let out of the marriage contract,” Charles began.

“Oh no, not at all. Wild horses could not drag me out of the marriage contract, not now that I’ve had a taste of our wedding night. Be as reckless as you want, Charles, but save your worst behavior for me.”

Charles scooted away when Erik smiled. Had he had all those teeth last night? Charles cast about for a way to change the subject. “Why did you bring that?” Charles gestured to the sculpture. 

“Do you not remember the question I insisted you answer before I would leave?” When Charles didn’t answer, Erik continued speaking. “Charles, I would be happy to simply gaze on you in rapt adoration for our entire lives together. I had already come to that conclusion before you spent hours displaying the sharpness of your mind and the passion in your soul. I know I will be very happy in this marriage.” Erik’s voice was soft and he kept his hands to himself. “But I want you to be just as happy and I didn’t know how to reassure you, given that you were so set against me.” Erik picked up the owl-like lump of metal. “As I was trying to cut out the damn beak, I started thinking that there must be sculptors for this sort of thing. Sculptors have been working in brass for centuries. Surely we can find a sculptor who works in iron and steel.”

“You want to find a sculptor?” Charles asked, puzzled.

“Will you smile if I do?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then yes. I thought we could commission a few pieces together. This house is your own, and I won’t impose, but perhaps we could install a few on the grounds of the steel factory. My employees might find it amusing,” Erik said.

“You have employees,” Charles murmured.

“Charles, my competitors are afraid of me, but not my employees. My factories are safe and I pay a good wage.”

It appeared that Erik wanted his approval. How very strange. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Erik smiled at him, and it didn’t have a bit of that sardonic twist to it. 

Charles smiled back. He was starting to suspect that there was a good man underneath those dull and frightening manners.

“We can discuss pieces you want to commission over the next few days. We’ll have plenty of time on our trip to Liverpool,” Erik said. There was a glimmer in his eye like he was excited about something.

“Liverpool?”

“I’ve written to my agent in Liverpool to find this Professor Howlett of yours and ask if he will still allow you to join this excursion to the Caribbean,” Erik said. The glimmer had progressed to a twinkle.

“I’m . . . you’re . . . the science trip? I’m to join the science trip?!” Charles leaped to his feet to pace in his excitement. He began listing all the things he needed to pack before he whirled on Erik. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Two reasons, dear fiancé. One is to keep you busy enough that you don’t try to seduce strangers in dark hallways anymore.”

Charles scowled at the floor, while fighting a smile. “And the second reason?”

Erik stepped close and set a gentle fingertip under Charles’ chin so that he looked at him. Erik’s gaze was warm and affectionate, with nothing left of the teasing. “I told you not to underestimate the power of these smiles.”

At that, Charles could tell his smile was big enough to scrunch up his eyes. Erik put a palm to his face and kissed his cheek.

“I’m fair on my way to being a completely besotted husband,” Erik said.

“That sounds nice for me,” Charles replied, awarding Erik another smile.

“Oh, you are too much! Make your travel preparations, you heartless tease. I need three days to inspect this piece of land and meet with an architect, and then we’ll be off. Make some sketches for sculptures and we’ll discuss them on the way.”

Still bubbling over with excitement, Charles reached into his jacket pocket. “I was sketching a finch when you arrived. It’s not my best work, we’ll have to have Raven fix it up, but . . .” Charles’ voice trailed off as he looked at what was actually on the paper. “Oh, that’s not my sketch of the finch.”

Erik snatched the drawing out of Charles’ hand before he could fold it back up and studied the sketches Charles had started of his mouth. The smile on his face went from pleased to lascivious. “This one is unfinished, Charles. It appears you need more modeling.”

The happiness and relief that Charles felt abruptly transmuted into something much hotter. He pressed his body to Erik’s torso and licked his earlobe, as he’d done last night in the dim hallway. “You’re right. I will need much more observation and experimentation before I can finish that sketch. I don’t suppose I could persuade you to model?”

“You might be able to talk me into it.” Erik’s arm pressed around his waist and his other hand ran down Charles’ hip.

Charles gave himself up to a kiss and a life that promised more than he’d ever dared to hope for.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally went and signed up on tumblr (why did I wait so long??) (yeah, I'm the same person who didn't see XMFC until 2018). Come say hi and I'll follow you too!
> 
> <https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lindstrom2020>

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [An Affair to Remember or Forget?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25286653) by [pinkoptics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkoptics/pseuds/pinkoptics)




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